Loving
by TMNTKunoich
Summary: Set in the 2k14 universe. Donatello had always been a sickly child. At one point, he wanders away into the sewers, delirious with fever. By chance, he's found by a kind human woman, who is more than happy to nurse him back to health.


**Hiya everyone! This idea struck me while I was laying sick in bed (still sick right now, unfortunately), and it kinds grew into this. *looks at Microsoft word count* 10,093 words?! Sheesh! This will probably remain a one shot, but read the A/N below for more info. And remember to review!**

**As stated in the summary, this takes place in the 2014 universe; I s'pose you can view it as whatever one you want, but there will be references to the 2k14 movie, when the turtles were six (a guesstimate as to their age for the majority of the flashback/origin story), so it might just be easier to imagine it in the set universe… but hey, whatever makes you a happy reader and reviewer ;)**

**Disclaimer: I, sadly, don't own TMNT )';**

Donatello liked to think he was a good boy. He was a quiet, shy child that seldom raised his voice and always minded his father. He tried his best to be a peacemaker and pacify his family, what with his brothers multiple clashing personalities. He ate as much as his small appetite would allow and studied his hardest in his school and ninjitsu lessons. He was always obedient and went to bed when told, performing his bedtime rituals with no complaints. He did his chores without so much as a sigh of protest. He always remembered to say please and thank you and always washed his hands after using the washroom.

So what had he done in a past life to deserve this rotten luck?

It didn't seem to matter what he did, the six year old thought miserably as he snuggled down in his bed, winter always made him sick. Of course, it could only be expected; no matter how humanoid, they were still turtles, still reptiles. Still cold blooded. They were very sensitive to temperatures, and had a hard time coping with even the slightest influx if brought on too suddenly. They naturally loved warmth, and despised the winter and its noisy howling winds, freezing flakes and below-zero temperatures. Just breathing the cold air was hard on their respiratory systems; chest colds weren't uncommon in the winter. And, though less likely and not as common, a certain little genius was especially prone to bronchitis and pneumonia, always spawned from the otherwise harmless colds and sniffles the freezing winter months brought on.

Donatello easily had the weakest immune system of all the brothers; always the first to get sick and the last to recover, always hit the hardest. He never truly got over an ailment till spring; once he caught something, it was there to stay. It may mellow out, often even rendering him well enough to get out of bed, but it never left. It was always there; an ache in his throat, a tickle in his nose, a slight haziness in his brain, something.

Sadly, there was little his worried father could do for the small child. He would do all he could; having him drink herbal tea, sip hot broth, and rub his shell whenever a particularly harsh coughing fit overtook him, forcing him to bend over and hack up the phlegm clogging his airways and lungs. Not all days were like this; some days he could get up and train and play with his brothers, as long as he promised to sit down immediately if he needed to catch his breath.

Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days. He'd woken up feeling horrible, with a fever leaving him hot and sticky but cold and chilly, throat especially achy and nose especially stuffy, head hurting and spinning around. Upon coming to wake him for breakfast that morning, his father had merely laid a hand on his forehead and tucked him in snugly with an extra blanket.

Now, the poor child lay in his bed, glazed, feverish eyes staring blankly at the ceiling from behind the rims of his big glasses. He knew he shouldn't have them on in bed, but it hurt his head not to wear them when he was awake. He just wanted to sleep, but every time he came close, the annoying tight feeling in his lungs would cause him to cough again, and shake him wide awake. Or… as wide awake as a feverish, bedridden six year old could get.

He coughed weakly, bringing up a three fingered hand to catch the spray in his palm. "Oh…" sighing miserably, he sniffled and pulled the blanket a little closer, rubbing his nose. It was running in reverse, draining backwards down his throat and only making him cough again. "Daddy…?"

In just a few moments his father arrived, a worried hand gently draping across his forehead, the other closing around his wrist to feel his pulse. "Yes, Donatello? What is it you need?"

"S- Spit…" he groaned, struggling to sit up. Understanding, Splinter aided his second youngest in sitting up, gently patting the back of his shell as a deep breath through his nose accelerated the draining and made him cough. Through watering hazel-gold eyes he could just make out his three brothers peeking into the room, worry written all over their faces.

After a few minutes, his tongue was assaulted with something thick, slimy and disgusting, and he nearly gagged as he spit it out, into the bowl his father held for him. Then, out of breath, it tapered off slowly, and he flopped backwards limply, whimpering.

"Are… Are ya alright, Donnie?"

His oldest brother's voice barely registered in his hazy mind, and he merely curled up miserably, shivering, breathing heavy and labored. "Here you are, my son, you must drink something," his father's hand slid under what would have been the small of his back had he been human, gently propping him up slightly on his pillow. The little turtle had to force himself to sip from the plastic cup of water that was held to his lips.

"D- Donnie…?" it was Mikey this time, sharing a worried glance with his two (relatively) healthy brothers. "Didn'tcha hear Leo? Yer ok… right?"

"My sons, hush," their father ordered gently, setting the water aside and pulling up the thick blanket, tucking it round his sick child's shoulders, making sure all but his head was covered and warm. "Your brother is very ill; he needs peace and quiet to rest." They immediately scampered away on silent tiptoes. Satisfied that his son was warm and relatively comfortable, Splinter carefully removed the glasses from his pale, sweaty face, setting them aside.

Donatello shifted sleepily, eyes refusing to lift above their half points. Everything was bleary, cloudy and blurry without his glasses, but there was no mistaking his father's warm, comforting hand tenderly stroking his head, or his soft loving smile. "Sleep, little one," he soothed, gently fluffing his pillow, trying not to fuss over him too much. "When you awake, I ought to have returned."

"Wh…" he voice slurred, both from exhaustion and his sore throat. "Where're you going?"

"To attempt to find something to aid your illness. Now, rest."

He gave no complaint, merely closing his eyes and snuggling down into the blanket. Splinter lingered in the room for several minutes, still stroking his child's head, waiting till he was well and truly asleep before kissing his forehead. "Sleep well, my son."

The other three were waiting for him right outside, sitting in a neat row, worried curiosity dancing in their eyes. "Um… Dad?" Michelangelo hesitantly raised his hand. "Is Donnie gonna be ok?"

Raph reached over and flicked his forehead. "Of course 'e is, shell-fer-brains!" he snapped, but the mutual concern was there in his voice. "He always gets better."

"Bu'he sounds really sick this time!" he protested, both hands holding his sore forehead.

"He always sounds really sick in the winter, Mikey," Leo interjected.

"But he sounds _sicker_!" the youngest insisted with a sniffle, turning watery blue eyes up to their father. "He's gonna be ok, right? _Right_?!"

"Of course Michelangelo, of course," he soothed, laying a hand on his head, careful not to let any worry or insecurity seep into his voice and poison their young innocent minds. "Your brother will make a full recovery, just as he always does. Now, which of you will accompany me in a search?"

...

All three children begged to come with their father, desperate to help, but the rat was able to convince his youngest to stay behind. He loved all of his children, unconditionally and immeasurably, but no one was perfect. And unfortunately, he suspected Mikey was highly ADHD; he couldn't focus in a majority of situations, and could hardly sit still for more than three minutes at a time, and that was if they got lucky. This mission needed to be quick; they needed to find anything useful and get back. And Michelangelo easily had the biggest heart; if anyone could keep his sick child comforted, it was bubbly, laid back Mikey. Not to mention, the youngest was still trying to get over a head cold; nowhere near as bad as his brother, but trekking around the wet sewers wouldn't be good for him. So he made the youngest stay behind and look out for his brother, with strict instructions not to wake him, and not to enter his room unless called for.

So, needless to say, Mikey was very bored. He tried to keep himself busy, tried to be quiet. Donnie had always been a light sleeper, and had a hard enough time resting when he was sick, what with his sore, rattling lungs and constant cough. Mikey flipped through all of the comic books his father had ever managed to find for him… and eventually fell asleep on their pizza-box couch with an old copy of Batman dropped over his face, which he'd later be devastated to find out he'd drooled on.

Sadly for the youngest two turtles, the baby of the family was a very heavy sleeper. It was always a great chore to wake him up in the mornings. So, when Donatello's eyes slipped open half an hour after his brother fell asleep, no one came to him when he woke up and was almost instantly overtaken by a harsh bout of coughing.

Swiping desperately at his watering eyes, he sat up and fumbled for his glasses, squinting through his blurry vision before finally finding them, shakily opening the frames and sliding them onto his face. Pushing them up on the bridge of his nose, he rubbed harshly at his eyes and wiped his mouth, nearly choking on a bit of phlegm and rushing to spit it out in the bowl.

"D… Daddy…?" his voice was hoarse and slurring; he frowned, no answer. Mind fuzzy with fever and senses muddled, he slid his legs out of bed. Somewhere in the back corners of his mind, his common sense whispered for him to stop, to climb back under the covers as soon as his feet met the cold concrete floor and made him shiver. But something, a louder, bigger voice, much more lulling and enticing, goaded him on, and he took several shaking, stumbling steps toward his bedroom door. That was Fever talking, he knew somewhere deep down; it was Fever telling him to do these things, and he knew that he shouldn't listen, but his sense of control was watered down and muddy. It felt like his mind was floating, and his body was doing this all on his own.

"Hmm…" coughing quietly into the back of his hand, thankfully not launching into another fit, he glanced around the lair, neck craning slowly, movements sluggish and sleepy, like he was moving through glue. He didn't see anyone. "Daddy…?" still nothing.

Hm… maybe daddy was still somewhere out in the tunnels? Yes, that sounds right, agreed Fever, telling his feet to move toward the main exit tunnel. He could vaguely remember his father saying something about going to look for something. He must have brought your brothers with him, whispered Fever in his ear. Go and find them.

Well, ok.

The small child wandered out, feverish delirium driving him on. He didn't know the tunnels or which way to go, but that was ok; Fever said so. He was pretty sure he'd only been walking for a minute or so, as Fever reassured him, but the rational part of his brain knew it had been at least an hour. They were fighting for control, Fever and Common Sense, but it appeared Fever was winning. But that was ok. Fever was ok. Fever told him it was all ok, Fever told him he'd find his family around the next corner if he kept up this not-at-all-aimless wandering.

It wasn't until he collided with a wall and fell backwards into some thankfully swallow runoff water did Common Sense finally manage to push Fever away and grab the reigns that controlled his mind, and suddenly he was scared and very, very lost.

…

Aisuru knew she should have taken the subway. But _no_, she just _had _to save her money and walk back to her hotel. She was such an idiot. She was better than this! She had plenty of money to spare. But she was tired of swiping her debit card, as she had been all week. She was in the city for a wealthy friend's birthday bash, and her flight left back to her countryside estate in mellow Oklahoma in the morning. But, as mentioned earlier, she was sick of swiping her debit card, and honestly was not fond of subways. Or cabs. So the young socialite opted to walk, as she usually did. And besides, she tried to reason, this was her last night in the big city; might as well enjoy some scenery, right?

She'd been walking for some time now, and her feet were killing her in her party shoes, and she just wanted to get back to her five star hotel, throw off these uncomfortable clothes and jump in the jacuzzi bathtub.

So, of course, as she was passing a sewer grate, she just _had _to hear a child crying.

The young woman stopped, and listened. "What the…" had breathing all this big city air messed with her senses? But no, it was definitely there; the sobbing, wailing cries of a small child coming from under the ground, echoing from the concrete beneath. And then, a set of harsh, brutal coughs mixed themselves into the weeping, and it clicked in her mind; a child, a _sick _child, was beneath the streets of New York, _in the sewers_.

Gasping, she kicked off her heels, knowing she'd probably biff it and split her head open if she didn't, hooked the straps around her wrist and swiftly descended the available ladder. Miraculously, the smell wasn't _that _bad; this seemed to be more of an area for rainwater drainage, and not actual raw sewage. The closer she got to the bottom, the louder the coughing got, and she could hear gasping wheezes; it sounded like whoever-it-was was choking!

Dropping down to the bottom, finally, she glanced around in the extremely dim light, and could just make out the form of a child, sitting some feet away. They were sitting down, leaning against the wall but bent over, hands clasped over their mouth and trying to stop coughing. They were trembling, shaking, and she could see them slumping dangerously; close to passing out!

Digging into her purse, she yanked out a familiar device; the inhaler she hadn't used in years but still kept on hand just in case. Rushing over and kneeling beside the child, who she really couldn't see all that clearly, she took his face in one hand and wrenched his arms away from his mouth. He didn't stop coughing, not for a moment, but she felt him give a fearful jerk and cry of surprise.

"Easy kid, easy," she soothed, shaking her inhaler to ready it. "This's medicine, it'll help ya." She held it up to his mouth, pushing it between his lips. "Ok, on three, breathe in for me and hold your breath, can you do that?" she saw desperation in his eyes, and a hesitant nod. "Good. One, two, _three_." She heard him suck in and pressed down on the button, and she heard the unmistakable puff of air. "Now let it out," she instructed after a few seconds, and she felt a warm breath hit her hand from his nose. "And again… one, two, three," another puff. She saw him slowly untensing, leaning back against the wall, relieved and exhausted. "And one more," after the third dose, she watched him for a moment, just managing to catch the glint of his eyes, and slowly pulled her inhaler back, wiping it on her top, not caring that there was slobber on it.

"There we go… are you alright?"

He nodded shakily, hands swiping at his eyes, breath still hitching with sobs. "Who… who are y-you?"

She smiled kindly, removing her hand from his face. "Aisuru, sweet pea. But you can just call me Ai."

"O- Oh…" he took a long, shallow, careful breath and sniffled. "Why didja help me?"

She blinked, mildly surprised, taking a seat beside him. "Well, I couldn't just _leave _you like that- you're really sick, sweetie; where's your mommy and daddy?"

"Don' have a mommy…" he mumbled, lying his head back against the cold stone wall. "Dunno where my daddy is…"

Her blue eyes shot wide. Had… had he been abandoned? She couldn't see him clearly- couldn't see much of _anything_- but he seemed like a good kid. How could anyone be cruel enough to just… Aisuru knew New York wasn't exactly the easiest place in the world to make it, but to abandon a child like this, down in the sewers with a terrible respiratory infection?

"When did you last see your daddy? Was it today?"

"Mm hm…" he snuggled into nothingness, sniffling. "My brudders went with daddy ta find medicine."

"Hm…" she inched closer and lay her hand on his forehead. She was slightly surprised to feel no trace of hair, relatively cool skin when compared to her, and- this was the kicker- smooth but bumpy skin, almost like… scales.

What the…?

Digging into her purse, she took out her cell phone and pressed the on button, sweeping the glowing light over him. She was very, very surprised at what she saw.

The little boy had green skin, visible scales, two toes on each foot and a large, hard shell.

"Oh. My. _Gosh_…"

"P- Please don't scream," he coughed weakly into his hand, which she noted had three fingers. "My head hurts…"

"…You're so _cute_!"

He looked a bit startled, but his sleepy eyes still didn't rise above their half point. She noticed they were a soft shade of greeny-gold, glazed over and unfocused with an undeniable fever. She noticed there were still tears slithering down his cheeks. "Um… th- thank you?"

"Aw, here," she reached out, gently taking his face in her hands, wiping the tears away with her thumbs. He peered up at her with frightened, curious eyes. "None'a that now; don' cry. Are you lost?"

He gave a miserable nod and sniffed again, wiping his nose on back of his hand, before reaching up to rub his eyes, which she then noticed were framed behind a large pair of taped up, slightly cracked and scratched glasses. She tilted her head; they were kinda cute. "Well, don't worry- Auntie Ai'll help ya, ok?"

He looked hesitant, watery eyes gazing up at her, exhausted and miserable. He coughed again, reaching to cover his mouth, and she dared reached out and wrap a comforting arm around him, pulling him close against her chest, one hand rubbing his back- um, shell?-, the other cradling the back of his head and holding him steady. "Easy buddy, easy…" she cooed. "Careful breaths now, nice and easy…" she offered her inhaler again, and he gladly took another puff from it. After managing to calm him down, she reached into her purse and pulled out a half full bottle of water.

"Here honey; gotta stay hydrated." He wrapped both hands around it, taking several cautious sips, and she pretended not to notice the backwash, making a mental note to throw out the rest of that water later.

"Th- Thank you…" he rasped out, voice hoarse and weak.

"You're welcome," she smiled, patting his shoulder. "Hey, before I take you home, you mentioned your father was out _looking _for medicine?" he nodded, yawning suddenly with a small shiver. She instantly slid off her coat, which was long and thick velvet, tucking it around him. "C'mon sweetie pie, can you walk?" she didn't wait for an answer, instead standing up and gathering the child in her arms; surprisingly, he was quite the featherweight. He curled up, and she wrapped him up wholly, making sure every inch of him was covered. "Tell me honey, what's your name?"

He just barely managed to slur out his name as another bout of sleepiness overcame him. "I'm… Donatello…"

…

Whatever happened next was such a blur Donnie hardly remembered anything. Before he knew what was happening, he was being lain down a wide, cushiony bed that smelled like vanilla, in a big fancy bedroom. He knew he should get up, try and get home, but Fever had control again, telling him to just close his eyes and relax and sleep. And Fever was right, it would feel very nice. So he closed his eyes and slept.

Aisuru paced back and forth in the living room of her penthouse, waiting for the knock on the door. Her family owned this place, and she technically had the rights to it, but she never imagined actually coming here. Now she was glad her mother was always so uptight and insisted she carry extra keys. She knew she couldn't go back to her hotel with little Donatello, and she was so glad the stores here delivered. She felt really bad; did this count as kidnapping? With her luck, probably. She could only imagine the little turtle's family panicking and desperate and in tears, but she couldn't just leave him there. From what she could infer, his father must have been like him, to some degree. Not human. They could only _look _for medicine and hope to find him.

That didn't sit well with Aisuru. The kid was a good one. She could tell. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be so sick. He sounded terrible, worse than anything she'd ever heard; who knew how long he'd been ill? He needed medicine, badly; she hated to think what could happen if his respiratory infection worsened any further.

It could kill him. Aisuru couldn't let that happen.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and she peaked through peep hole. Yep. Opening the door, she faced the bored-looking super market employee, who gruffly handed her her two bags and marched away. Having paid on the phone, she took them gladly and shut the door, locking it. Strolling to the mahogany coffee table, she emptied the contents. A box of tissues, a thermometer, children's asprin and tylenol, various cough syrups, kids nyquil and dayquil, mucinex tabs, vitamins and a variety of other children's medications. The other bag had a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for herself, and several cans of fancy chicken soup.

"Ok…" changing into much more comfortable clothes, she put some soup in the microwave, grabbed a bottle of cough syrup and thermometer, and went to her little guest. He was snoozing away, and she decided to ignore the fact that his nose was running all over the satin pillow cases. "Hey…" she sat down beside him, gently taking his shoulder and shaking it. "Hey… Donnie, c'mon baby doll, ya gotta wake up."

"Uh uh…" he groaned, frowning, turning onto his side.

"C'mon cupcake; the sooner you get up and take your medicine, the sooner you can go home to daddy."

He gave another moan of ire, but his greeny-gold eyes flustered open anyway. "Mm'kay…"

She smiled gently. "Good boy," she held up the thermometer. "Say 'ah'." She didn't know his normal body temperature, sure, but he clearly had a fever, and if she knew a spiked temperature, she could calculate one of general normality.

After taking his temperature, which turned out to be 79 degrees, she poured him half a capful of cough syrup and helped him drink it. He made a face and stuck out his tongue, complaining of the nasty taste. "I know, sweetie, I know…" she sympathized, handing him a glass of water to help wash it down, before picking up a nearby remote. "But its good for ya, help you get better. Supper's almost done; wanna watch TV?"

He tilted his head at the new concept, but nodded all the same, curiosity winning over his feverish mind. He was immediately mesmerized by the moving pictures, much like those things called 'music videos' they could sometimes glimpse on those street posts. Soon enough she brought him a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup, which he was reluctant eat but tried all the same, finding the soothing hot broth almost instantly calmed his throat. He managed to eat half the bowl, and the strange lady gave him a hug and complete control of the remote in reward.

He wasn't sure what to make of this situation, in all honesty. His father had always told them that humans were bad. They couldn't be trusted. They would hurt them if they ever found out about their existence.

But… this human woman had comforted him, helped him breathe, and brought him to her big fancy home and given him medicine and good soup. He could already feel his fever lowering in response to the antibiotics; he was feeling less dizzy then he had in the last month.

There was a knock on the door, pulling him out of his thoughts. There she was again, standing in the doorway, smiling that oh so kind and gentle smile at him. "Hey, sweet cakes? How would you like a cool bubble bath- it should help your fever."

…

Mikey had never felt so bad. Never. The time he'd gotten food poisoning from a pizza slice he'd been hoarding for two weeks? Nope. The time he got the stomach flu and was so sick he couldn't hold down his own_ spit_? Nope. The time he'd accidentally hooked Leo in the eye with his nunchucks? Nope. Nuh uh. Nada. No way. He'd had some pretty rotten times in the past, but nothing, _nothing _could ever make him feel as bad as this.

"I- I'm sorry!" he squeaked out, tears gliding from his baby blue eyes, lower lip trembling. His father's horrified, infuriated face glared back at him, and his two oldest brothers looked plainly devastated. "I- I didn't mean ta, honest!" He felt like he definitely deserved to be called 'Worlds Biggest Idiot', as Raph had so kindly dubbed him countless times in the past. How could he have done this? His brother was very sick, and he somehow managed to let him wander off!

"I- I'm so sorry Sensei!"

His apologies were ignored, falling on deaf ears as their father left with the swiftness a ninja was known for. "Leonardo, Raphael, stay with Michelangelo!"

"H- Hai sensei…" a pale faced Leo managed to squeak out, and with that, they were left alone.

…

"There… how's that feel?"

The small turtle giggled as he leaned against the gleaming white edge of the bathtub, Aisuru gently scrubbing a soft new loofa over his skin. He was surrounded in what appeared to be a massive sea of rainbow suds and foam that smelled like peaches and roses. "It feels real good, Miss Aisuru ."

She beamed fondly down at him, before picking up a nearby bottle and squirting herself a quarter size circle of shampoo conditioner blend. "Good. Now, close your eyes," he did as she asked, relaxing further as her hands lathered the soap and began gently rubbing it over his head and shoulders. It smelled like milk and honey, a wonderful new scent in his by-now-clear nose. "Squeeze," he squeezed his eyes shut and dipped his head, and a second later lukewarm water was gently poured over his head, washing away the soap and leaving him feeling cleaner than he ever had. "Good boy, now turn 'round and face me, sweetie." He felt a towel gently wiping the area around his eyes, ensuring there was no soap. "Kay, open up."

He did, and she immediately placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He pushed them up almost reflexively, before smiling up at her gratefully. "Alright, up and attem'." She pulled him to his feet, before picking up the towel, which was big and purple and fluffy and smelled like daffodils, picking him up under the arms and setting him on the plush bathroom rug, beginning to towel him off. When he was dry, she slipped him into an oversized black nightshirt. It went nearly to his shins, and the sleeves were too long, but it was fresh, soft, and smelled like hot chocolate, and he'd never felt more cozy.

Bending down slightly, Aisuru giggled and picked him up again, sitting him on her hip. His arms curled around her and his cheek rested on her shoulder. "So, Donnie, ready ta head to bed?"

He yawned softly, one fist reaching up to rub his eyes. "Uh-Kay,"

Grinning softly, she took him back to the master bedroom, making sure he was warm and snug as she tucked him in. She took his temperature again, and was relieved to see it had gone down to 77. Still high, but an improvement, considering all that was happening. She'd done a search on her phone, finding a healthy body temperature for turtles was anywhere between sixty eight and seventy three degrees. He was getting better. She made him take a small dose of nyquil to ensure his cough wouldn't bother him, make sure he got a good nights rest. Leaving the TV on, muted, so he wouldn't have to be in pitch blackness, she dared kiss his forehead, stroking his temple to lull him to sleep. "I'll be right down the hall, sweetie," she informed him softly as he drifted off, bending down to kiss his nose. "If you need anything, I'm right here. Ok?"

…

The vomit hit the floor before he was even fully awake. Donatello didn't know what happened; one moment he's peacefully dreaming, the next he's leaning over the edge of the bed and coughing violently and throwing up his supper. Guilty and in pain, the child immediately began to cry, feeling ashamed. This lady had been so nice to him, and he'd just ruined her nice carpet! A moment later, there was the sound of rushing footsteps, the door opened, and the light flicked on. She gasped at the mess on the floor, and he wished he could duck into his shell like non-mutated turtles and hide; he didn't went to see her angry face.

"Aw, sweetie…"

Moving around the mess on the floor, Aisuru swiftly climbed onto the bed, pulling the sobbing child into her lap and snuggling him close. He whimpered and hiccupped miserably, looking up at her with big teary doe eyes a trembling lip and traces of puke dribbling off his chin and down his neck. It was easily the saddest thing she'd ever seen. "I- I'm… I'm s-s-_sorry_!" he choked out, before promptly launching into a coughing fit. She merely held him, gently supporting the back of his head, rubbing his shell and rocking him kindly.

"Hey hey, easy now," she murmured, kissing the top of his head. "Easy now, Donnie… shh… _shhhh_…"

His coughing slowed down, and he sniffled miserably, raising one arm to wipe his mouth and nose. "Oh hey hey, don't do that," she cooed gently, reaching over to the bedside table, plucking a handful of tissues from the box. "Here," gently flipping him over so his shell was leaning against her front, she wiped off what she could of the left over stomach contents, taking a separate kleenex and wiping his eyes. "Blow." He blew, and she wiped his nose for him. "There, see?" she patted his cheek. "No real harm done, all better."

His expression was still miserable. "I… 'm sorry for f'rowing up."

She chuckled softly, stoking the beck of his head. "Sweetie, you're sick. That's not your fault. And besides, I volunteered to be your nurse- the possibility of puke comes with the occupation. I'm not mad."

His eyes brightened and he squinted at her, prompting Aisuru to retrieve his glasses. "You… Yer not?"

"No I'm not," she kissed his forehead. "Now, how bout we go wash you off, huh? Then you can come sleep with me. Deal?" he beamed, nodding happily.

As it was about four in the morning, they opted for just a quick rinsing shower, a gentle pill for his stomach, and then back to bed. Just as promised, Aisuru let her little mutant guest lay in the same bed as her, starting on the respectful opposite sides, but it wasn't long before he'd scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her to cuddle. She smiled softly as they fell asleep, one arm wrapping around his shell, the other slowly caressing his head.

…

Leo fidgeted for what must have been the ten thousandth time, struggling desperately to keep his eyes open. But every time he blinked, he had to consciously reopen them, head bobbing dangerously each time. He shifted again and fought back a yawn. A soft snore from his brother didn't help. He and his two siblings were all snuggled up on the couch, waiting for their father to return. The oldest had spent hours trying to console a bawling Michelangelo, who hadn't been able to stop crying, blubbering on and on and wailing that this was all his fault.

Leo was worried above all else; his brother was sick, very sick. Probably delusional too. He was probably wandering around, exhausted and cold, his fever soaring dangerously. He couldn't help feeling guilty; he was the big brother. He was supposed to take care of the younger ones. It had been his job since they were little… well, littl_er_.

He shifted again, trying to get some feeling back into his arm. It was currently being used by Raph as a pillow. He was sitting cross legged on the couch, holding each of his clearly distraught brothers. Mikey was curled up comfortably, head on his thigh and sucking his thumb, a thick blanket draped over him. Raph was leaning against him, arms crossed over his plastron, head on his shoulder and face pointed up toward the ceiling. Even in his sleep, he looked angry, but there was concern also etched onto his features. He'd become more mopey and brooding than usual, throwing in the occasional harsh reprimand or sarcastic quip to further emphasize the point that Mikey had screwed up, but otherwise he was quiet. He had a thin red fleece throw around his shoulders, and Leo worried he was cold. But he wasn't shivering, but that could just be his stubbornness shining through, even though he was sound asleep and snoring softly.

He couldn't swallow a yawn this time, and his eyes closed. He didn't have the energy to open them again, and a single drop of warm salt water dribbled from his eye, spattering in his lap. "Please be ok…"

…

Donatello woke up feeling better than he had all winter. His chest was only mildly heavy and congested, his head didn't hurt as much, his nose was clear and he could take deeper breaths without coughing. Yawning, the mutant rubbed his eyes and glanced around; he couldn't see much of anything, but he was pretty sure Aisuru wasn't in the room anymore. "Ai…" he cough once to clear his throat. "Aisuru…?"

A few seconds later, she stuck her head in the door, gliding gracefully over to the bed and presenting him with his glasses. "Good morning, Donatello." She greeted pleasantly, sitting down beside him, aready holding out the thermometer. His fever hadn't changed, still 77, but he didn't look quite so pale and weak. "I made breakfast," she presented him with a tray, adorned with a bowl of soup, some oatmeal, a cup of black tea with honey, a glass of orange juice and a slice of toast with jam.

He thanked her and proceeded to nibble politely at his breakfast in bed, but his appetite had yet to be completely restored. He'd never had that big of an appetite to begin with, but it admittedly felt good to get some food in his belly. Aisuru sat with him as they ate, flicking on the TV and letting him pick the channel. She was mildly surprised when he settled on animal planet, but was content to watch a batch of fluffy kitties growing up and rolling around.

"My brother Mikey wants a kitty…" he murmured matter-of-factly after having finished his breakfast, leaning against her side with her arm around him, cuddled up comfortably.

"Oh he does, does he?"

"Uh huh," he bobbed his head, adjusting his glasses from the corner frame. "Bu' Master Splinter won't lettim' have one."

"Master Splinter?"

"Oh, yeah," he giggled- a cute, quiet, slightly snorting sound that she found adorable- as one of the kittens on television went toppling off a chair. "Daddy. He says we hafta call him Master or Sensei in da' dojo or when we talkin' bout him when he's not around."

Dojo? "You in martial arts training, sweetie?"

"Uh huh, me an' my brothers."

"How many brothers have you got?"

He coughed softly. "Three."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Do… do they get as sick as you do?"

"Mm… not usually," he sighed, reaching up to rub his nose. "Bu' Leo keeps coughin', and Mikey's godda cold. We're always sick in dhe winter. Can I habe a tissue?"

She handed him one, her gaze becoming more and more concerned. "And… you said you don't have a mommy?"

He blew his nose and sniffed. "Nope."

She took the kleenex from him and dropped it in the waste basket, contemplating. So… it was a single parent, raising four boys with a tendency to get sick, one of them extremely so. And they were living _in a sewer_. "You poor things…"

…

Donatello knew he shouldn't be enjoying this so much. He should be feeling scared, threatened, and homesick. Well… that last one, yeah. He desperately missed his brothers and father. But he managed to console himself with the thought that this could be a lot worse. This human could instead be mean, cruel, have him locked up in a cage. Instead he was lounging in a posh penthouse, eating fancy, fresh hot food and taking expensive medicine, with complete control over a big TV and the freedom to call the super market and order anything he wanted. It was great, and he very much appreciated it… but he missed his home. He missed their hard pizza box couch and echoing walls. He missed Leonardo and Raphael yelling at each other. He missed Mikey's constant chatter. He missed his Bo staff and their little dojo. He missed playing their favorite game; buck buck. He missed his father's watchful eye as they played, warning words and fond smile.

But thankfully, Aisuru had promised to take him home as soon as his fever broke. And she seemed convinced that would be within a few days. The thought of being home with his unlikely family made him feel warm and happy. His family was surely worried; he could imagine Mikey in tears, Raph secluded and angry, and Leo pacing around restlessly. And Master Splinter… he was undoubtedly hunting through the sewers tirelessly for him. He wished he could contact them somehow, but he wouldn't be going anywhere till he was better. Aisuru said so; she said with proper medicine and rest, this horribly nasty chest cold should clear up quickly. That was a new, although welcome, concept to him. Getting over a sickness in just days? Wow.

"Hey," she sat down beside him, the thermometer in one hand and a damp rag in the other. "C'mon, open up." as he obediently let her stick the device under his tongue, she gently dabbed his face with the cool rag. "Feel good?"

He nodded, careful not to lose the thermometer. It beeped, and she eased it out of his mouth. "76; you're getting better," she beamed, kissing him softly on the head. He giggled as she did so, before embarrassedly clapping both hands over his mouth as he involuntarily gave a small snort.

Aisuru giggled, gently batting his hands away from his face, touching his cheek fondly. He gazed up at her, confused. "Anyone ever tell you you've got a cute little laugh?"

He scrunched up his face, baffled, shaking his head. "No… my brother's tease me for it."

She smirked. "That's silly," one long elegant finger tapped his nose, and he giggled again. "_I_ for one love it; it's adorable!" he gave her such a comically skeptical look she laughed aloud and reclined against the back of the couch. "Anyway, I came to tell you, it's time for your medicine again,"

…

It had been four days. _Four_. _Days_. It was all Leonardo could do to keep a handle on his brothers and keep them from crying. Their father had hardly been home these last dour days; only returning from his searches to make sure they ate and to tuck them in at night. He left the eldest in charge, but for once he didn't enjoy the responsibility.

He tried to take care of them, he did, but between the guilt and already getting over a cold, Mikey was getting sicker. And he suspected it was slowly spreading to Raphael as well; his voice sounded a little rougher than usual and he'd heard him sneeze three times today. Combining that and concern for his lost brother welling up, the oldest turtle was so stressed, he was sure he would've pulled his hair out by now if he had any.

He'd been pacing round their abandoned subway station home almost around the clock, trying to berid himself of nervous energy, but also to keep an eye on the perimeter; he could tell, both his brothers were itching to join the search, and he couldn't lose another brother. He couldn't, and he _wouldn't_.

"L- Leooo…?" he drifted over to the couch, where Mikey lay curled up on his side, wrapped up in his favorite blanket and looking miserable.

"Yeah?"

He coughed. "Throat hur's…" he mumbled quietly. "Wuh- Water please?"

He managed a smile, patting his brother's head. "Kay, sure."

"Thagks. _Keh'tchu!_" Congested sounding sniffles as he wiped his nose. "Tissue too?"

"Bless you." He wandered away to find his youngest brother the things he asked for, retrieving an old cup and filling it with water through the sink and pipe system they'd managed to connect to some human business's water supply. Straight after, he retrieved a half empty box of tissues from his missing brother's room, swiftly returning to the living area. The sight that met his eyes made his heart ache.

In the five minutes he'd been gone, Raphael had joined Michelangelo on the couch and now they were cuddled up together, sleeping soundly. It made Leo pine deeply for Donatello, and his blue eyes welled up and spilled over before he could stop them.

Shaking his head, the small child rubbed roughly at his eyes, and set down the two things he'd grabbed, going and retrieving his own blanket. He gently draped it over his napping siblings, giving them each a fond kiss on the head. "Don' worry guys..." he whispered, wiping away more tears gathering in his eyes before they could fall. "He- He'll come home. I promise."

…

Donatello fidgeted excitedly as he went cross eyed to watch the little red line rise slowly. He was sitting at the breakfast table, a plate of perfectly fluffy golden pancakes before him, waiting to be eaten. He was feeling much better; he coughed still, but the fits were completely gone. His throat was moderately scratchy and his nose was a bit stuffy, but aside from that, he felt fantastic. Almost as good as he did in the summer.

The device beeped, and Aisuru gently eased it out of his mouth. "Whasit say, whasit say?!"

"Seventy one point five," her smile was wide enough to rival his. "No more fever!"

"YAY!" with a happy cry he jumped up to hug her. She stumbled back under his sudden weight, but after steadying herself she gladly wrapped her arms around the ecstatic child, his arms squeezing her neck, legs wrapped round her torso and back, head tucked under her chin. After a moment of joyful hugging he leaned back, beaming up at her with so much joy in his face it warmed her heart like never before, and asked "Does this mean I can go home?!"

"Yes it does sweetie," she kissed his forehead with a slightly watery smile. "Yes it does."

His smile widened, if at all possible at this point. "When?!"

"Tonight, sweetheart. Can't let anyone see you," he nodded his agreement, but his enthusiasm didn't waved. "Now, eat your breakfast;" she set him back on his chair, and he gladly sat down, required to sit on his knees to reach. "Gotta keep up your energy, build up your immune system."

"Ok!"

…

"Ok sweetie, hold on tight." She knelt down, letting the small boy cling to her back, arms wrapping around her neck from behind, legs fastening around her stomach. The manhole cover she'd found him by was still open, and she carefully climbed down in. When they reached the ground, she gently slid him off, allowing him to get his balance. "Ok, you wanna walk, or should I carry you?"

"I'll walk," she couldn't see his face in the minimal light, but she could imagine that sweet beaming grin she'd become accustomed to over the last week. His hand slipped into hers, and she dug around in her messenger bag for a flashlight. Flicking it on, she swept over the floor and along the walls, making sure to get a general feel for the layout.

"Ok. Now, Donnie honey, I don't know where you live, so we might be done here awhile. If you get tired, you _tell me_. Understand?" she was pretty sure he was in the clear, but the air down here was moist, and there was always room for a relapse, even with the immune system boosting vitamins she'd been giving him twice a day.

He nodded, tightening his grip on her fingers. "Ok."

"Good boy. Now, come on."

As they wandered around, he told her all about his family. "Mikey's my liddle brudder," he began, childish lisp changing his pronunciation. "He's real silly and makes us laugh all the time."

"He sounds wonderful,"

"He is! Even if he's kinda 'nnoying, I love 'im lots n' lots."

"Sounds like you guys are good friends."

"We are! He's my best friend!" he giggled, blushing a bit when she cooed at how 'adorable' it was. "And then there's Raph… sometimes he's not very nice, and he likes ta hit, but he loves me a lot and takes good care of me."

"Aw… that's so sweet."

"Don't let _him _her you say that!" he sounded amused. "He'd prob'ly cut ya up with his sais."

She grinned, patting his head. "Ah well. Didn't you mention you had three brothers?"

"Oh yeah!" his foot caught on something and he pitched forward, stumbling for a moment, but he merely straightened up and adjusted his glasses as if nothing had happened. "My oldest brother's Leo! He's the best big brother anyone could _ever _have!"

"Oh, is that so?" she chuckled softly. "Any reason why?"

"Oh yeah, he's the best! He's always real nice and tries ta protect us and makes us feel better when we're sad and lets us sleep with 'im when we have nightmares and… and… just everything!"

"He sounds wonderful," she granted, before falling quiet for a moment, listening to his breathing. It was sounding just a bit thicker than before, perhaps a little wheezy and phlegmy. "Baby doll, slow down a moment." He stopped, and she knelt down in front of him. Flipping open her messenger bag, she slid the inhaler into his mouth again. "Three," used to this by now, he sucked in at the exact same time and held his breath a moment, before sighing softly, sounding relieved. His breath smelled like the minty toothpaste she'd made him brush with.

"Thank you,"

She frowned as he yawned, which led to a couple chesty coughs moments later. "That does it; c'mere," sliding her hands under his arms, she hoisted him up. She cradled him against her chest, head up on her shoulder and arms dangling. "Comfy?"

He shifted around a bit, before settling down and relaxing. "Yep."

They continued. Aisuru couldn't help feeling silly; imagine what her family would say if they ever saw this; her walking around in a filthy sewer, wandering cluelessly while holding a humanoid mutant turtle child in her arms, searching for said turtles' family. Yeah, this was definitely going in the very top spot on her 'Strangest Things I've Ever Done' list.

To be honest, she dreaded finding the little guys family. She could admit it; she'd become attached. He was a sweet boy, well mannered and kind, and very very smart. She wanted to just pack him up and take him back to her estate and keep him there with her. She imagined how wonderful that would be; no one around for miles, so he'd be free to run round in the sun and play to his hearts content. He'd never have to hide or feel ashamed of his appearance. He could splash in the creek and run through the woods without a care in the world. She would get him an entire playground, so he'd have swings to swing on and slides to slide on. Always have three fresh meals a day, always have a hot bath to clean up, a warm bed to sleep in, and have medicine when he was sick. She wanted to, and honestly would have, if it hadn't been for the little one himself. She could see it in his eyes- his precious, greeny-gold eyes- he was homesick. He yearned for his family, for his three siblings and loving father that he spoke so fondly of. She couldn't do that to him, couldn't deny him his family. That was cruel.

Her heart grew just a little heavier and ached just a bit more with every step. Little Donatello had fallen asleep, his breathing soft and gentle against her neck. They'd been down here for two hours, and a glance at her phone revealed it to be 11:03. She was beginning to doubt she'd find his family; they'd been at this form some time now. She was just starting to think that, maybe, she might be _forced _to take him home with her when she heard the sobbing.

Instantly her mind went to the first night she'd met Donatello. But these sobs were quieter and further away. She followed the sound, and soon could hear a delicate, fragile little voice. "D- Daddy, ya gotta f-f-find him!" it wailed. It sounded like a boy. A little boy. "I- I miss Donnie!"

"I- I miss him too!" agreed a second voice, not crying but definitely sounding close to tears. "Dad, when're you gonna find him?!"

"…" she finally came to a tunnel, which opened up into a big, wide area; from what she could see, an abandoned subway station. There were four forms in there, one tall and about her size. The three others were small, only coming to about their elder's knees, clutching the draping robes of the adult. The light was dim but exceptionally better than the rest of the sewer; in comparison, it was quite bright. So she had no trouble making out the giant rat, and three little turtles.

Her breath caught despite herself; even though she was carrying one, seeing four other human sized, talking mutants baffled her. Consciously forcing herself to blink and shifting the sleeping child into one arm, she hesitantly raised her hand and gave three soft knocks on the metal piping. The sounds were soft and echoing, but they all gave horrified gasps and whirled around to face her. She saw fear contort the three small faces, eyes widening and faces paling. The adult didn't hesitate to usher the three small children behind him, long tail lashing on the floor. Back in the shadows like this, she supposed all they could see was her outline.

"Wait, please!" she kept her voice soft and non-threatening. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna hurt you!"

"Who are you?" hissed the rat, assumably the 'Splinter' character he had mentioned before.

"…A friend," she answered slowly. "Really. And… I think I have something that belongs to you."

She stepped forward, and shock painted itself over the rodent's face, as well as relief. Aisuru knelt down, slow and steady to show she meant no harm, and gently shook Donatello awake. "Sweetie…" she murmured. "Donnie, wake up…"

"Hm…?" he made a sleepy sound, before yawning widely and rubbing his eyes. "What…?"

She chuckled a bit at his tired obliviousness, gently setting him on his feet. "There's someone that wants to see you, sweet pea." And she swung him around by the shoulders. For a moment he just stood there, blinking, before his eyes shot wide and he bolted across the room.

"DADDY!"

He collided with his father so hard they were sent reeling for just a moment, before he was fully embraced. The little turtle gladly curled up and snuggled against his beloved father, burying his face deep into the fabric of his robes and clinging to him for all he was worth. He was sobbing dryly, shuddering and whimpering, but he said nothing.

"Oh, my Donatello… hush my child, hush…" murmured the rat, gripping the child firmly but gently, rubbing fond, comforting circles on his hard shell. "Do not be distressed, I am here now…"

He gave a soft sniffle and dared to shyly remove his face from the fabric, peering up at him with relieved, beaming bright eyes. "I missed you…"

"We've all missed you as well, Donatello. I… I am greatly relieved to see you alive and well."

That seemed to jar his brothers, and they scrambled to their sibling, pouncing onto him and forcibly dragging him away from their parent, and they went tumbling to the floor in a quadruple turtle pile.

"Donnie!"  
>"You're back!"<br>"We missed you so much!"

"Wha… hey!" Mikey tilted his head at him, grin lighting up his face. "Yer all better!"

He giggled as they hugged him, and nodded in response Michelangelo. "Yup! I can breathe through my nose again and my throat isn't too sore! Isn't it great?!"

"Its awesome!" Leo agreed. "But… how?"

"Oh!" they untangled themselves, standing up, still bemusing uncontrollably. "Aisuru took real good care a' me!"

"_Who_?"

He bounded over to where she stood, leaning against the wall just outside the lair and watching the reunion with soft eyes. He hugged her legs for just a moment, before grabbing her hand and tugging her forward with a surprising amount of strength.

"Woah, hey!" chuckling nervously, she looked down at the three other little ones, watching her with big, big eyes, looking to be a mix of frightened and curious. "Um… hi?"

"This's Aisuru, guys!" the second youngest beamed, wrapping his small arms around her shins, laying his head against her knee, shifting his gaze to his father. "She took care'a me."

"Did she now?" the rat looked her right in the eye, and she had to fight not to look away. His gaze was intense, calculating and wise. It was hard to meet it straight on.

"Yes sir," she acknowledged with a respectful dip of her head, fondly laying her hand on Donnie's head. "I'm really sorry I worried you, but he was so sick, I- I just… I _had _to do something."

"She was really nice ta me, sensei!" Donatello agreed helpfully. "She made me soup and took my temperature; she's not a bad human, honest! Please don' be mad!"

"…I am not angry, my son."

"Yer not?"

"No," a small smile slid onto his face, and the tension eased from the room like flowing water. "Merely relieved to see you home safe. Miss Aisuru," he gave a slow, respectful bow and she couldn't help blinking in surprise. "We are indebted to you for your kindness."

She giggled, embarrassed and bashful, blushing. "Oh, i-it was nothing, really," she tried to dismiss it. "He's such a sweet boy; it was my pleasure to help."

Splinter held her gaze a moment longer, before turning his attention to his four little ones. "Children, go and prepare yourselves for bed. I must speak with miss Aisuru here."

"Hai sensei!" chimed all four obediently.

…

Donatello hadn't a clue what his father and Aisuru might be talking about, but he was very very pleased when they both arrived to tuck him in.

"Oh, there's my favorite boy!" she cooed, coming up next to the bed and holding out her arms for a hug. He gladly leapt up and into her embrace, arms around her neck and nuzzling his cheek against hers. "Oh… I love you so much," She swayed them back and forth a moment, before pulling back and kissing his cheek. "Have I ever told you that?"

He giggled. "Uh uh, nope."

"Well, now I have," she carefully peeled him off, laying him down on the bed. She touched his cheek, a sad smile slipping onto her lips. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Donnie."

"What...?" all happiness immediately drained from his face. "Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, uh, honey," she heaved a sad sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Remember how I said I don't usually live in New York?"

"Yeah…" where was this going?

"Well, sweetheart," she pulled him into her lap, beginning to stroke his head. "I'm going home in the morning. Back to Oklahoma."

"_What_?!" he looked horrified. "N- No! You can't! You can't go!"

The adults shared sad looks. "Donatello, my son, please. You must understand-"

"No!" normally he'd never interrupt his father or be so disrespectful, but right now… "Aisuru, you can't go! …Stay here!" he grabbed onto her hand and hugged it to his plastron. "Please! Stay here! You- You can be part of our family- of _my _family!"

"Oh baby doll…" her eyes welled up. "I would if I could, trust me, I would. Heck, I- I'd even take you home with me if I could! But… but I have to go."

He sobbed. "_Why_?!"

"I- I just do." She rubbed his shell, laying her head over his as he cried softly. He'd become pretty attached too, it seemed. "Sometimes friends have to go away for a little while; its just the way things are."

"That's not fair!" he protested. "Pleeeaaase, _don't go-o-o_!"

And he dissolved into near-hysterical sobs. It just about broke Aisuru's heart into a million tiny pieces. She wanted to comfort him, console him, tell the despairing child it would all be ok. But she knew nothing she said would help. So she opted to merely hold him as he cried, rocking back and forth and kissing his head from time to time. He clung tightly to her, begging her over and over not to leave. She didn't want to leave, but she would undoubtedly be needed back home. And, as Splinter had explained, because she knew about them, if she was anywhere close she might someday be a danger to her existence. She couldn't let anything happen. She still wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and carry him to her private jet and fly away back to her estate. But she couldn't do that. He needed to be here, with his family.

Eventually, his sobs softened, and soon he was merely hiccupping and whimpering, breathe hitching unsteadily. When she looked down at him, he was in a fitful sleep, face stained with tears and snot, frowning and grimacing, lip still quivering. It broke her heart all over again. "Poor baby…" she murmured, cupping his cheek, caressing it with her thumb. "Cried himself to sleep…"

Wiping his face with her sleeves, she moved slowly to lay him down. Placing his head on the pillow, she pulled the blanket up to his chin, tucking him in tenderly. "There, shhh…" she murmured softly, placing a soft kiss on his temple. His eyes opened just a sliver, and for just a single moment, gazed at her. She smiled in response, taking his face in both hands and leaning down give him one last peck.

The last thing he remembered was her soft, gentle lips on his forehead.

**Well, that's all for now folks! Probably going to leave this as completed, but if anyone wants a follow up or deleted scenes or more fluff, let me know in a review or pm, and I'll see what I can whip up ;) I have a small idea for a possible AU beginning to bubble up in my mind, but no promises as to whether or not I'll do anything with it.**


End file.
